


Basketball and Shrimp

by fmpsimon



Series: FFXV Week 4 2017 [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Basketball, Bromance, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, High School, Sports, cup noodle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 04:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmpsimon/pseuds/fmpsimon
Summary: Ignis is mortified by the thought that he might not pass PE.  Gladio tries to help, but it seems that the only thing that will get Ignis through it is dumb luck.





	Basketball and Shrimp

                “Would you just shoot, already?” Gladio said from in front of the net, and he had to admit that it came out of more of a snarl than he intended.  Ignis was holding the basketball between his two sweaty hands, preparing his shot over and over again, and had been doing so for the past two or three minutes.  It felt more like an eternity to Gladio, though.

                “I’d like to _make_ the shot, if you don’t mind,” Ignis said, and he wasn’t skimping on the acid in his tone.  Gladio sighed loudly and crossed his arms, waiting for the second year to take the shot.  At this point, he wasn’t even going to bother trying to block it.  Ignis’s aim was all off, anyway.  There was no way he was going to put the ball in the basket.  Ignis licked his lower lip, biting down as he jumped, tossing the ball.  His follow-through wasn’t bad, Gladio noted, but the ball sailed right under the net and clanged against the chain link fence behind them.  It rolled to a stop at his heels.  Ignis heaved his shoulders, looked disappointed for a moment, and then composed himself.  “I guess this isn’t my game.”

                “Yeah,” Gladio agreed.  “You’d better stick to chess and the library.”

                “I’m going to fail PE,” Ignis bemoaned as they walked back to the locker rooms.

                “Just show up and do your best,” Gladio said.  “They can’t fail you for that.”  He nudged his friend, who apparently could not be consoled at the moment.  He was trying to make light of the situation, even though he knew this was a big deal to Ignis, who had never done poorly at anything in his life.  It wasn’t that he wasn’t physically fit—he was in excellent condition, and Ignis would have been the first to say it.  “Look,” Gladio said, stopping next to Ignis’s locker.  He put his hand on the door and Ignis stared at him, his shirt half off.  “I know basketball is kicking your ass, and you hate it, because you’re good at everything.  You’re not used to having to try this hard at something when you know all the principals—and I _know_ you _know_ the principals.”  Ignis blinked at him, a little taken aback at his sudden earnestness.  “You’re doing everything right.  But sometimes it’s about feeling it…in your heart.”  He tapped his fist against Ignis’s chest.  “You can’t study it.  You just have to feel it.”

                Gladio headed to the showers and by the time he returned, Ignis was dressed and waiting for him outside.  “Done moping?” he said with a smirk.

                Ignis stood up and slung his satchel over his shoulder.  “I was not moping,” he said at length.  “I was thinking.”

                “Sure, whatever.”  Gladio elbowed him and managed to coax out a small smile.  They walked for a while in silence, both heading toward the Citadel.  Gladio glanced at Ignis once or twice, staring straight ahead with his lips pursed and his brow furrowed.  He was still moping, he realized with a sigh.  “Hey.”  Ignis glanced at him.  “You’ve still got some time.  Why don’t we practice before school tomorrow?  I’ll have you shooting free-throws by the end.”  He grinned.  “How does that sound?”

                Ignis blinked at him, his cheeks turning the palest shade of pink.  Adjusting his glasses, he said, “It sounds like I’ll owe you a nice, home-cooked meal.”

                Gladio chuckled.  “That sounds good.  Can it be anything?”

                Ignis nodded with a smile.  “Anything you want.”

                “I _have_ been craving Cup Noodle,” Gladio said thoughtfully.

                Ignis shook his head, laughing softly.  “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said ‘home-cooked.’”

                “What?” Gladio smirked.  “It’s cooked.  You can make it at home.  Sounds pretty home-cooked to me.  Besides, I like mine with _real_ shrimp—not the dried stuff.”

                “Ah, of course,” Ignis said, nodding.  He stopped at the Citadel’s west gate.  This was where he had been headed.  “It’s settled, then.  You teach me how to shoot a free-throw and I’ll make the most delicious Cup Noodle meal you’ve ever had.”

                Gladio grasped his hand, shaking it firmly.  “Deal.”  As it turned out, Ignis couldn’t ever get the ball into the net, even after an hour of practice and pep talks.  But all the same, Ignis whipped up Cup Noodle with real shrimp for Gladio that evening.  They still had something to celebrate, after all: by a stroke of luck, Ignis managed to make one free-throw shot and pass PE.


End file.
